41. Ava
AVA
D ay one, post-Levi, I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck—sore, achy, sick to my stomach from crying myself to sleep.
My eyes are swollen, my throat is raw, and my pillow is still damp from last night.
I drag myself to the bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
It’s so jarring, I flinch. My skin is blotchy, my hair’s a tangled mess, and I barely recognize the person staring back at me.
It’s humiliating.
But it’s my fault.
I knew what this was. As if I could separate my heart from my body and be the girl who doesn’t get attached.
But then he started saying things that made me feel safe. Doing things that made me feel wanted. Like I mattered. And I let myself believe that I could be the exception.
It all happened so fast.
Falling for him.
Losing him.
There’s no one defining moment I can point to. No single kiss or touch pushed me over the edge. Instead, it’s a mosaic of moments—each one carving his name deeper into my heart.
It was the way he was with Gran, bringing her flowers and making jokes.
The way he held me in silence when she passed, letting me cry until I had nothing left in me.
The way he made me soup when I had the flu and how he’d cleaned me up when I’d had too much to drink.
The way we laughed. Really laughed. Shared stories about our pasts, confessed our secrets like we were the only two people in the world.
At least—I thought we both did.
Now I realize the secrets we shared were mine alone. His stayed hidden behind that carefully constructed wall of iciness and deflection.
By day two, post-Levi, I’m angry now. Tired. Emotionally drained.
Why did I let him lie to me? This entire time, he was using me, and I was too stupid to see the signs. And for my father, no less. A person he knows I have always wondered about.
I’m staying at Mila and Christian’s place, under Mila’s strict orders, but it feels like I’m a ghost haunting someone else’s life. I move through the rooms without touching anything. I barely speak.
Christian keeps himself busy, probably because he doesn’t know what to say. Mila tiptoes around me like I’ll break if she looks at me too hard. Maybe she’s right.
The house is too quiet. I spend most nights staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over like some sick highlight reel.
Still, I can’t help it. I keep waiting.
Waiting for the sound of footsteps on the porch.
Waiting for the scent of whiskey and longing to wash over me.
Waiting like an idiot for Levi to show up and say he was wrong. That’s he’s sorry. That he needs me.
Is that toxic? Delusional?
If it is, then he made me this way.
I want to ask Mila if she’s heard from him, but I don’t. Because if she says he’s been out at the Tomb with Cherry and her neon-red hair, I might lose it. I might actually show up just to get under his skin. To prove I’m not the girl everyone abandons.
Like maybe if I can piss him off enough, he’ll realize what he lost.
It’s childish.
It’s petty.
It’s human.
By day three, post-Levi, I’ve stopped waiting.
It’s over. And I know that now.
There’s no grand gesture. No apology. Just silence.
By day four, one million and one dollars show up in my account.
One dollar to show he remembers.
One dollar to twist the knife just a little bit deeper.
I rejected it immediately. I couldn’t follow the terms of his cold, transactional little arrangement, and I don’t want his or my father’s money anyway.
I’ve survived without it my entire life. I’ll keep surviving.
What I wanted—what I still stupidly want—is him .
But that part of me is starting to die, little by little.
On day five, I tell Mila I’m moving. I spend the rest of the night moving into Gran’s old cottage in the woods. It’s off the beaten path and just isolated enough that I don’t have to worry about being friendly with the neighbors.
Everything is covered in dust and cobwebs. I haven’t been able to come back since I moved into Cross Estate. Mainly because it feels hollow without her. But, now . . . so do I.
I start by cleaning out the bedroom as best I can. I’m still surrounded by Gran everywhere I look, but at least now, I can breathe enough to sleep.
And somewhere along the way, I go numb.
Not in a peaceful, I’m-healed-now kind of way. More like my emotions have finally short-circuited.
I hate him.
I hate him because he made me fall in love with him. I’m a walking oxymoron with a penchant for falling for men who should come with a list of trigger warnings.
It’s pathetic.
I want to cry and scream and throw things. I want to break someone else’s heart because mine feels like it’s been ripped out and stomped into the dirt.
It wouldn’t change anything. I’d still be just as miserable without him as I am now. So . . . I accept it.
Not because I’ve moved on.
But because I’ve run out of ways to resist.
On my sixth and final day, I find myself in my old room, packing what few things I have. I hate that it doesn’t smell like him when I pass his door. Almost like he hasn’t been there since I left him.
I’m nearly finished when a sharp knock breaks the silence, echoing through the room like a gunshot. My heart lurches, skipping a beat. I freeze, unable to move. For a moment, it feels like time holds its breath with me.
My mouth is dry when I swallow hard, each step toward the door feeling heavier than the last. I suck in a deep breath and grip the handle like it might anchor me to reality. With a trembling hand, I pull it open—
Only to find Paulina standing on the other side.
My stomach sinks violently, as if I’ve just stepped off a ledge. I don’t even know why I allowed hope to get the better of me. Of course, it wouldn’t be him.
“Can I help you?” I manage, my voice flat, stripped of emotion. Whatever opinion she has of me doesn’t matter anymore.
“Actually, yes,” she says, lifting her chin with that familiar arrogance and brushing past me like into the room.
I stand there, stunned, the door still open behind me as I watch her stride into my room like she’s got every right to be here.
“I didn’t invite you in,” I mutter when she drops into the chair beside my bed, poised like she’s settling in for a long chat.
“That sounds like your problem,” she shoots back, eyes flicking around the room with thinly veiled judgment.
This bitch.
I exhale sharply and push the door closed with more force than necessary, crossing my arms over my chest as I glare at her.
“What do you want, Paulina?”
I know I’m being rude, maybe even cruel, but I’m done playing nice. I’ve bitten my tongue for too long, swallowed too many words. And after tomorrow, I won’t be under her thumb anymore.
She has the audacity to look me dead in the eye. “I want you to take Levi back.”
Her words hit me like a freight train. My heart jolts violently, the air knocked from my lungs. It’s been days since I’ve heard his name out loud. Just hearing it feels like ripping open a wound I’ve barely managed to stitch shut.
My legs give out beneath me, and I collapse onto the edge of the bed, clutching the mattress for support. My heart pounds in my chest, loud and erratic.
“If you’ve come here to bargain for him . . . save it.”
She tilts her head like she doesn’t understand the problem. Like it’s a detail that can be easily brushed aside.
“Whatever happened, fix it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, sarcasm sharpening my voice. “Did I miss the part where you were allowed to barge in here and start making demands? I already quit. I’ll be gone tonight.”
“Despite everything, I like you, Ava,” she says unexpectedly.
“Yeah,” I snort, “that was always really obvious.”
She ignores the bite in my tone. “Something about you changed him. I don’t know what it was, but he softened. You made him different. Better. I’ve never seen Levi care for someone the way he did for you.”
My chest tightens, the pain almost unbearable. I remember that version of him—the one who held me like I was his lifeline, who whispered things in the dark that he couldn’t say in the light. The version who tried so hard to be more than the pain he was born into.
But that was all a facade. Just like everything else, he made me feel.
“Paulina . . . ” I sigh, pressing a hand to my sternum, as if I can keep my heart from shattering again. “It’s over.”
She goes quiet. So quiet that for a moment, I think she’s stopped breathing. I wouldn’t be surprised—these days, the universe seems to take every opportunity it can to screw me.
“Where would you go?”
“I have a house. My Gran’s house. I’ll find a new job,” I shrug. “Does it matter?”
“You can’t.”
“I can,” I snap. “And I will. It’s for the best. There’s nothing left for me here.”
“You have us,” she says, softly—so unexpectedly soft that it actually hurts.
But I don’t have him.
“That’s not enough,” I whisper.
Paulina exhales slowly, and for the first time since I met her, there’s no smugness in her expression. Just sadness. A hollow sort of regret.
We sit in silence. A shared, heavy acceptance settles over the room like a cloud of dust.
It’s a clean slate. A new beginning.
God, I need that.
“How is he?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted to ask since she walked in.
Paulina studies me, and then finally—finally—she answers.
“He’s hurting, Ava. He’s broken. I’ve never seen him like this. He won’t say he misses you, but it’s written all over him. I can see it.”
I wish she hadn’t said that.
“Goodbye, Paulina.”
I stand abruptly, heading for the door before the ache in my chest can turn into action. Because if I stay here, I’ll go to him. And I made myself clear—he and I are through.
“When I became the caretaker for my niece and nephews, I had no idea what I was doing,” she says, voice quiet behind me. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But my biggest regret?”
I turn, just enough to see her watching me. And for once, there’s guilt in her eyes. Real, human guilt.
“Being an asshole?” I offer dryly.
She ignores me. “I was too easy on him.”
I blink, stunned. “Excuse me? He was beaten by his father his whole life. How is that ‘easy’?”
“I let him shut everyone out,” she says, her voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting him, giving him space. But I was enabling him. I should’ve made him talk. I should’ve helped him face it instead of hiding from it.”
I shake my head, that familiar dread creeping over me like a storm tide. “You didn’t know.”
“Don’t give me excuses, Ava. I was too busy to see how his father was hurting him. And now? He destroys everything he loves.”
A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it.
She stares at me, long and hard. Like she’s peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had. I feel stripped bare beneath her gaze.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, tears stinging in the backs of my eyes.
“What’s done is done,” I say hoarsely.
It sounds final. Heavy. Like a door slamming shut in the distance. And maybe that’s what this is. The end of something I’ll never get back.
Will I ever feel again? Will I find anyone like him?
A quiet voice in my mind whispers, NO . And my knees almost buckle under the truth of it.
Even if what Paulina says is true . . . Even if he’s hurting . . .
There will always be something missing.
Something lost.
Something Levi took with him the day he let me go.
“I’ll say this . . .” I pause, reaching for the door handle. I have to get out of here. “I wish I could hate him, but . . .” I shrug. “I just can’t.”
She doesn’t respond, staring at me with guilt.
“Goodbye, Paulina.”